Three nights since the hoard of biters that ran in. Three nights since he last moved from where he was. Three nights since everything went completely downhill. Three nights since Arthur...

Francis shifted very slightly where he sat, eyes occasionally glancing out the window then back down to his feet. The sun was just about to set- that was obvious by its rays just barely peaking over the forest treetops outside. It was quiet outside so he wasn't alarmed in the slightest for any danger. Even if there was approaching danger, he wouldn't react to it. What was the point? What was the point at all anymore? Ever since Arthur...

No.

Let's clear something up.

Arthur is dead, but not quite. Francis figured that out rather quickly when he awoke to find the other on the floor next to him. If the Brit was truly dead, he would've turned into one of the biters already. However, he hasn't. It's been three nights since that all happened. With that knowledge, Francis grasped onto that very slim belief that Arthur was indeed still alive. It was small, but it was there. It was there.

However, that slim chance of life in Arthur didn't cheer up Francis. It didn't mend his shattered heart that tied him down to where he sat. Arthur was still dead in his eyes. He wasn't breathing nor was he there beside him full of life. He was like a lifeless doll that gave off doubtful hope that it still had life embedded in its wooden cracks. Francis couldn't see any motivation nor inspiration for striving towards the future. There was absolutely no point at all.

"The sun's setting, Arthur." Francis mumbled, looking over at Arthur. The Brit was set down neatly in the corner of the room with a jacket over his torso. "You used to love the sunsets. You'd speak in that beautifully poetic tongue of yours every time you got to see one. I remember, some days you would drag me out of the house just to force me to watch it set with you."

He sighed as silence was the response he received.

The Frenchman closed his eyes before reopening them to stare outside. The sunset...

"Francis! Will you bloody look? You don't want to miss it!"

"Ah, mon cher. It is the sunset. It looks just like how it did yesterday."

"It's not the same one, you idiot! It's different!"

"How so?"

"Look. The sun is melting on the rooftops. It's heat waves are wavering and dancing along the edges. The burning orange and red crash together to make a beautiful magenta. And that magenta slowly blends in with the incoming blues. The sky is having a gentle battle between warm and cool colors, can't you see? Every night, the warm give their best fight but are always defeated with the cool colors pushing them down. However, every morning, the warmth have their fair revenge and overtake the cool until the following night. It's an endless battle amongst the colours of the sky every day... It's quite beautiful. And we, as in us on Earth, get to witness it's beauty and triumph every day."

"Ah, you always astound me with your eloquent diction. If only you spoke like that every day instead of that foul mouth of yours."

"Hmph. Well, I'm not the one who chooses to kiss this 'foul mouth' every night before bed."

Francis chuckled sadly at the memory that played out in his mind. It seemed as if it was only yesterday Arthur was using his poetic tongue once again on the colours of the sky. The Brit always did so everyday. Every night and morning, Francis would be pulled to the window as Arthur described the sky. His description varied and never was the same as the previous day because, as he always said, it was a different sky every day.

Oh, how much Francis longed to hear his voice... He ached to hear Arthur speak, just once. Just one simple word was all he wished for. He could care less about what the word was- it could be 'wanker' 'tea' or even 'idiot' and he'd be satisfied. However, he knew fate was not in his hands and the possibilities of that ever happening were slim. And, he had no belief in wishes nor miracles now. All of that had disappeared and drifted away with Arthur. Francis had given up all hope, all joy, all love for the matter. All of that was gone.

The Frenchman reached over and grasped Arthur's limp hand, using his thumb to caress he back of his cold hand. His skin was still smooth as ever, even despite being gone.

"Arthur.. come back. Please, come back." Francis pleaded, his voice breaking ever so slightly. "I need you, mon Cher. I cannot face the world without you. You.. You are my moon. The world cannot stay daytime forever. The sun cannot remain high in the sky by itself. It needs the moon as their companion. The moon holds the day together. Without you, my moon, my day's are frozen. Time has stopped and I do not know how to start it again. Arthur.. I need you. I need you more than life itself. Even now, life is moving on without me while I'm still here waiting for you."

Tears slowly slid down Francis' face as he broke into soft sobs. He shook his head in disgust and sorrow as silence was, once again, the answer he received. Silence. It's always damn silence. That's all he gets. It doesn't matter how hard he cries, how loud he screams, how much he begs and pleas and prays, Arthur would still only give him silence. Nothing but the sweet, ear shattering sound of silence.

"Help!"

Francis' breathing hitched and his sobs stopped momentarily. What was that? Actually, more like, who was that?

"Oh God, anyone, please! Help!"

It was coming from outside. Francis jumped to his feet, grabbing his knife from his back pocket. Whoever it was, he was going to find out. If it was an enemy, he wasn't going to hesitate to kill. Even if Arthur was gone, Francis would still protect his body until his own body broke before him.

"Help! Anyone, please! My brother!"

Francis swung open the door and looked about for the voice. His eyes locked onto a someone running over to the cabin with someone in their arms. Blood was soaking the person's front as they ran with whoever's body they were carrying. Hesitantly, Francis slipped away his knife and waved them over.

"O-Over here!" The Frenchman shouted out. He could see the man's face was streaming with tears but all other physical features were hidden behind a hood.

"H-Help me, please." The man sobbed, handing Francis the other male he was carrying. Francis took the other in his arms and quickly went inside, setting him down in the opposite side of the room from where Arthur was.

The man he was holding had blood pouring down his forehead and soaking his torso. There was so much blood and dirt the man was unrecognisable. The other, who had been yelling for help, was crying hysterically beside him as he feverishly tried to cover up visible wounds and cleaning up blood.

"Move out of the way." Francis said calmly, grabbing some bandages he and Arthur had snagged from a drugstore a while back. "I'll help out, don't worry. He's going to be okay."

The man nodded shakily, his hands trembling as they were drenched in the other's blood. There was so much blood Francis felt as if he was going to puke. But, no time for that now. Maintaining that strong caring personality trait, he had the need to help those who needed it.

"Please.. A-Anything. Just, please s-save him.. He's the only family I have left."

Francis nodded, feeling his heart ache at that statement. "Don't worry. I will." He glanced up at the man, getting a better look at his face. What he saw nearly made his heart ache even more.

...Matthew?

Author's Note:

This was actually a fun chapter to write. I've been yearning to write this chapter and ahhh I can't wait until I write more ;u;

Like I mentioned before, this fic will most likely be turning into a FACE/FrUk centered story since I have more fun writing that. But I'll still keep SuFin in there and possibly other nations? I don't know, depends on how I feel.

Anyways,
Please leave your feedback in the comments/reviews! I love hearing them and help me continue writing! :)